Fix It
by AA-Tenks
Summary: If there's one thing Amelia can fix, it's Herman's tumor. Arizona/Amelia.
1. Chapter 1

"_Shut up,_" she hisses, and pulls her hand roughly towards the storage room. She is shoved in quickly and the door slams shut behind her.

She vaguely remembers that this is the storage room where people make out and have sex. Her breath hitches in her throat a little, and her heart races only so slightly before she remembers to regard the look on the other woman's face which is more contemptuous than lustful.

"Dammit, Amelia," she warns, "can't you lower your voice?"

"About?" Amelia grins knowingly. She knows it's about Nicole Herman's brain tumor, but a part of her wants it to be about something else. Most of her does. She thinks that she probably wants people to want her in other ways.

Broken people, or people who know what it's like to be broken. To be at a loss.

To have nothing, but one thing.

Like Owen. She doesn't know much about him. Besides murmurs of Cristina. Besides Meredith's chatter. Besides the veteran's project.

And like Arizona. She doesn't know much about her, either. What she does remember is that Arizona had bouncy blonde hair that seemed to flutter as she turned hallway corners during her years in med school. She only knew her by name, and sometimes by the friends who happened to sleep with the overachieving med student. She never looked for anything serious.

They never spoke. They graduated. Years later, she heard from Addison that Callie Torres married Arizona Robbins.

Now she knew her as her fellow colleague. She knew her from the hospital gossip, from Addison, from the shambles of her brother's marriage: car crash, plane crash, leg, broken up with Callie. Once, twice - finality. Etcetera, etcetera. Everyone in their own dilemma.

Except, now she's part of it.

"About Herman, dammit!" Arizona yells at her, "It's already a freaking problem that you know!"

This riles her up. But she coolly retorts, "I'm saving her life, Arizona."

The blonde collects herself. Her shoulders slump, and she looks contemplative. She admits her wrongs. She crosses her arms, furrows her brows. It's a stern look.

"I know," she admits. "Just… be more quiet about it? As in, don't tell me about your game plan in the halls, and don't use names, and don't-"

"Alright, alright," Amelia interrupts. "I was just excited."

"Excited?" she asks, bemused.

"Can't I be?" she grins, "It's awesome."

"Awesome?" Arizona asks, her brows raised. She seems to hear more in that word, she seems to remember something. Her arms fall to her sides, and her eyes seem to brighten. She takes Amelia in.

It's the first time she's really looked at her, she thinks. Really sees her.

"Awesome."

Arizona grins, "Let's hear it."

* * *

><p>Arizona agrees that it's <em>awesome<em>, and Amelia spends all night working on it. She stares at scans until her eyes grow heavy and red. She stares until her eyes burn, until she needs to blink to let the tears out.

She's troubled and her brother's gone. Owen hasn't called and she hasn't spoken to Meredith. Her life has been this tumor. Whisks of blonde hair, sad blue eyes, and a tumor.

She thinks she needs a break, but then something clicks. And staring deeply into Herman's catastrophic tumor, she realizes that she's found it.

She checks her phone in excitement. 7 missed calls from Meredith, two texts from Meredith inquiring of her whereabouts, a text from Arizona - _Tomorrow, I'm so damn tired_, and 3% left. It's 5 AM. She throws the heap of clothes she gathered for today in an overnight bag and grabs her jacket.

* * *

><p>Alex is annoyed when he lets her inside, but she only grins back at him in greeting.<p>

"Mer was talking about you last night, where'd you disappear?" he asks. She feels bad for a moment, for abandoning her sister-in-law after her brother's disappearance. She knows Meredith mostly goes to Alex in her time of need. She can tell she's interrupted something when she observes his slightly sagging pants and ruffled shirt.

"Lab," she claims, "Where's Arizona?"

He seems surprised, "In her room."

She moves past him as he shuts the door and waits for him to point her in the right direction. As she walks, she feels her heart thumping in excitement - _it's here_, she thinks. _Finally._ With little regard to privacy, she opens the door and sees strands of yellow hair pillowed on the bed. The sleeping woman is bundled in her blanket. She shuts the door behind her.

Now, she doesn't know what to do. She looks at the clothes thrown carelessly on the floor and the prosthetic leg propped up against the night stand. She did have a late night, didn't she?

She feels a little awkward now.

"Arizona," she calls.

She doesn't stir.

Amelia hears footsteps from upstairs and walks over to the bed, shaking the sleeping woman awake.

She dodges the slap she receives in response and tries again. A head pops out from underneath the sheets.

The doorbell rings. Footsteps resound down the stairs. The house seems lively.

"Oh," Arizona murmurs. Her sleepy eyes widen and she looks annoyed. She turns away, "God, I thought you were Alex."

"What?" Amelia asks, "Why?" She is on her knees now, slumping over the blonde, staring at her exposed collar bone. Her skin is pale and only slightly freckled. "You sleep naked?"

Wide awake, Arizona protectively pulls the sheets over her. "I was tired."

"So you slept naked?"

"I just didn't feel like putting anything on."

"Didn't get lucky instead?" Amelia grins, recalling tales from med school. Arizona narrows her eyes.

"No," she retorts. She seems to get comfortable and leans back on the bed. "Why are you here?"

Amelia checks her phone. 1%. 6AM. She has to be in the hospital at 7.

"Breakthrough," she claims. "Thought you'd like to know?"

Arizona sits up in surprise. The sheet falls only slightly. More of the collar bone. Pale, slightly freckled. A little flushed when the moment hits.

She's been into these kinds of people lately.

"Let me see!"

Amelia turns to her bag and takes out her iPad, briefly going through the scans. She hands it over to Arizona and unbuckles her belt.

"What are you doing?"

"Changing," Amelia says. "I didn't get a chance to, yet."

"Oh," the blonde says, and returns her attention to the iPad.

They hear murmuring when Amelia takes off her shirt, and the door knob turns as she picks up the fresh one.

"Amelia-" Meredith starts. But then she stops and looks at Arizona, surprised. She looks at Amelia now, taking in her exposed upper torso. "Seriously?" she asks, narrowing her eyes.

"No-" Arizona starts.

"Totally not what you think," Amelia continues.

Meredith shuts the door. She hears fading footsteps as the front door slams.

Arizona falls back onto the bed. "Dammit, Amelia."

"Well," she says, "what a shame."


	2. Chapter 2

"Going up-_up_?" she asks, as the elevator doors shut. "That never happens."

Puzzled, Arizona smiles uncertainly. She can't tell if it's a joke. This Shepherd is quirky. Funny. Kind of refreshing. "What do you mean?"

"No one goes up from the basement," Amelia explains as if it's common knowledge. "Well, no one goes to the basement at all," she clarifies.

"Well, isn't that where your hideout is?" she grins.

"Excuse me, Arizona," Amelia retorts, "_my _hideout? You're the one that got me involved by throwing my name out there." Her tone is more playful than accusing.

"Okay, fine," she acquiesces, "_our_ hideout."

She feels strange when she says it, and almost wants to take it back. She hasn't said _our_ in a very long time. She can't remember when last she said _our_ without it hurting. Without it being loaded. Without it being tainted. _Our _house. _Our _marriage. _Our _divorce.

This _our_ isn't so heavy. She likes this _our_. It's like _our _child, almost–the _our_ she actually likes, the _our _that is unconditionally pure, the one that makes her happy. But this one is different. It's light and free and secretive in a calming way.

"I had a hideout," Arizona confesses, "in Hopkins. Library basement. I stole the keys and snuck in and stayed there when I wanted to be alone and study." She laughs, "It was filled with so much of my crap."

It is nice to have it again, she thinks. The brunette turns to her and blinks in reply. She smirks and gives her that sly look that she finds herself slowly growing accustomed to. It's almost inviting, the way she does it, the way her eyes glow with amusement, the way her lips look before they widen into a smile.

"Cause no one goes there?" Amelia asks.

"Yeah."

"Well," she says, turning her gaze away from Arizona, "I thought about going there." She admits, "A lot, actually."

The elevator chimes as it reaches the first floor, but it is not their stop. Meredith and Callie get on instead, and they both step back to allow them entry.

Arizona's heart races. They both seem stiff, as if caught in a private conversation. Amelia grins, "Hey!"

Her eyes meet Callie's. She sees a smile form on her face before it quickly drops. Like she acted before remembering. Callie does that, Arizona thinks, acts before she remembers.

She wants to think that Callie's instant reaction to her is a smile.

She turns around. Her back to Arizona. Arizona leans against the rail and instinctively shuffles closer to the funny Shepherd. She almost feels the desire to grip her lab coat. It's a funny desire. The funny Shepherd makes her feel like doing funny things.

"Hi," Meredith says, and greets her sister-in-law with a mostly blank stare. She doesn't look at Arizona before she turns around.

The elevator chimes again, and they both get off.

Arizona sighs heavily when the door shuts. She feels Amelia's gaze on her.

"Don't be so nervous," she says, "it's not even true."

"That's not the point!" Arizona shoots back.

Amelia is too laid back, she thinks.

"What's the point, then?" Amelia asks, and she can feel the concern in her gaze.

"I just don't want any misunderstandings," she explains.

* * *

><p>The next time Amelia finds her, she is perusing an article Herman left to her in her absence. The margins are small and limited, and she can't quite make out the writing.<p>

The basement is quiet. It's big and vacant, and incredibly quiet, yet she doesn't feel at ease. It is nothing like the library basement at Hopkins. There are memories here. They aren't her own memories, but they're memories of a time where she hadn't existed.

A time when she was not present.

_"I lived in the hospital basement," Callie tells her. _

_"You lived in the basement?" she echoes, in surprise._

_They are sharing a simple dinner when Callie tells her the old news. _

_She is learning more about her every day. She is in love with her. She still struggles to let her know. She can't think of the right time._

_Callie laughs, "It was such a long time ago." She feels Callie's foot brush against her thigh. She is more flirtatious than reflective._

_"When?" she wants to know._

_The dinner is forgotten as Callie leans into her._

_"When I used to dance in my underwear."_

She is frustrated. She slams the journal shut and leans back in her chair.

"Well, you're sunshine this afternoon," she hears.

She watches as Amelia grins and sheds her lab coat, placing a plate of cafeteria food in front of her. The salad is withered and soggy. She frowns in dismay.

"Sorry," Amelia offers. "I was chatting."

"With Meredith?" Arizona queries, popping a small tomato into her mouth.

"No," she says, settling in a chair next to her. Arizona feels her eyes drift to a spot just below her neck. "Owen."

"Oh," she watches for a moment as Amelia stares at her, "what?" She looks down.

She is surprised when Amelia reaches out and traces her collar bone. Her fingertip is soft and slightly cold and incredibly foreign to her skin. She shivers.

She hasn't been touched in a while.

"What are you doing?"

"Your clavicle is kind of pointy, isn't it?"

"What?" she asks, "Pointy?"

"Defined, then," Amelia determines, pulling her hand away. She seems slightly flustered, yet collected in her gaze. It's almost as if she wasn't expecting to do what she did. She looks away. "Yeah, yeah," she continues, "I was talking to Owen. Got carried away."

"Surgery?" Arizona inquires, slightly enchanted by this peculiar woman.

"No," Amelia says, "Other stuff." And she doesn't want to explain.

"Oh," the blonde says. She remembers the news of Amelia's addiction. It came as a surprise, though she certainly did not consider it. She heard from others, and apparently, there was to be a board meeting on it. She didn't go, it resolved itself. There were nasty rumors - ones she did not pay heed to. She never judged people based on simple rumors, she always judged them based on what she saw and what she knew.

She doesn't judge, and Amelia doesn't talk about it. Amelia doesn't share much about it.

And Arizona suddenly remembers that this–right now–_this_ is all for Herman.

"What's this?" Amelia asks, picking up the journal that Herman left her.

But she doesn't want the shift in conversation. She doesn't want the impersonal. She is sick of it, and Amelia seems unsure. She is tired of the impersonal, she decides.

"You know," she starts, poking her fork into a soggy tomato. She eyes it skeptically, "Callie used to live in the basement."

"She did?"

"It was her hideout, too."

"Oh," Amelia says, "_Oh_," she considers, "I'm sorry, Arizona. I didn't-"

"No, no," she quickly interrupts. This place isn't the problem. Not all the time. Not when Amelia is here with her. "I just," she starts, but she is unsure, "I just wanted to tell you."

To share, she wants to add, but she resists.

She is sure of one thing, that the expression she will receive will be one of confusion, or pity, or dismay. _I'm sorry your marriage is broken._ She should have said something else, she thinks.

But she is surprised when Amelia smiles in understanding, when she grins and slaps her hand on the table, and tells Arizona about the time she sobered up in a hot tub and felt shriveled for days and vowed to never set foot in one ever again.

* * *

><p><em>I'm coming now<em>, Arizona texts her after surgery.

_No, come to my office, _Amelia replies.

_I have to get the scans. Plus the journals._

_No forget about that… just come to my office!_

The exclamation points do her in as she makes her way to Amelia Shepherd's office, frowning when she finds the door is locked. She checks her watch and knocks impatiently.

"Come in," she hears, and lets herself inside.

The room is cluttered with boxes and scans that have fallen off the walls. It is dark, and bleak, and smells of books and withered journals. She looks to the smug brunette who only grins at her with glee.

"What is this?" she asks.

"My office."

Arizona rolls her eyes, "Clearly." She shuts the door behind her.

"I moved everything up here," Amelia explains, and moves closer when she doesn't. She feels hesitant.

"But what about-"

"It doesn't have to be there," Amelia says. She takes her hand and Arizona can feel the coolness and softness of her fingertips. She places a key in her palm. "Here's the key."

Arizona laughs. Amelia's hand feels hot, and the metal feels cool between their palms. "You use a key? We have ID cards."

"This is for you," she said, grasping her hand tighter.

Arizona understands, "I liked the idea of having a hideout, though."

"It is. It's my hideout," Amelia smiles, "now it's yours, too."

Arizona beams back, she can't resist. "Okay."

But Amelia doesn't let go of her hand, and Arizona can't seem to pull away. The metal turns hot from both their skins, and it seems to spread throughout her body. They are silent, and the room seems to resound in its silence as Amelia's eyes draw back to her clavicle. It all makes Arizona feel dizzy. She pulls away before her hand shakes.

"Thanks.." Arizona says softly.

"Sure."

A page leaves Arizona standing there in the middle of Amelia Shepherd's office. She smells something else and determines that the scent is her morning shampoo which the neurosurgeon used to take a quick shower this morning.

The floor is littered with boxes, papers, and candy wrappers. It reminds her of medical school. It reminds her of a haven she once had all to herself.

She digs through her bag and pulls out a ring of keys. It is a personal collection she keeps by her side: library basement, 502, car, murder house, Grey house.

She adds Amelia's office key to the set.


	3. Chapter 3

"_Hey,_" she calls out to her, as though she hasn't been paying attention this whole time.

It would be partly true, she thinks, but mostly a lie, because she _has_ been paying attention to her. She's been listening to the light sound of her breathing, only disturbed by the sporadic grunts of annoyance she makes every so often, which Amelia has determined to be habits of frustration. She listens to the huffs, and deep sighs, and, if it gets quiet enough, even the licking of her lips. She can hear it in the comfortable silence of their hideout. She's grown used to it, and she likes it. It's peaceful; comforting.

It's Arizona.

"What?" Amelia replies, but her eyes are still peering into the nearly-finished pint of ice cream she's been consuming for the past twenty minutes.

Amelia hears another grunt from the blonde accompanied with the creaking of her chair as she leans back against it, the work in front of her quickly forgotten. She seems to always be displeased when, during rare moments, Amelia doesn't give her the full attention she seems to ask for. "That's no good for you, you know," she continues pointedly.

Spoon in mouth, Amelia looks up from her cup and into tired, bright blue eyes. "I know," she grins, and Arizona frowns when she reaches out and offers the cup to her. "Want some?" She says it playfully - and it always comes out before she's aware of it. She could be less playful, she thinks, but it seems to become habit. She can't shake the feeling of wanting to tease this woman, of wanting to comfort her in some inexplicable way.

She reminds her of herself, just a little bit. Maybe it's because she's always with her. Or maybe it's the perpetual emptiness that seems to haunt her.

She should change her tone, she thinks. Be more serious. Arizona seems serious.

She is surprised when Arizona grins slyly back, says yes, and takes the cup from her. Amelia widens her eyes, but doesn't have a chance to say anything before Arizona takes the spoon, and slips it out of her mouth and into her own. "Mine now," the blonde triumphantly declares.

"That's gross," Amelia claims. "I had another spoon."

Arizona looks into the cup, her voice dismissive as she asks, "Were you planning on sharing?"

"Well, I have another pint," she explains.

"Seriously?" Arizona asks, her eyes on Amelia again. "That's _so _bad. All you've been eating is ice cream," she notices. "Herman gets these, too."

"The flavors are so weird," Amelia claims, "So I want to try them all."

"Binge eating is _not _attractive," the blonde retorts, slipping the spoon into her mouth, and there's more to the simple claim than her voice reveals. It's shown in her eyes, the way they dim, the way her dimples fall only slightly. It could be a simple phrase, it could be a simple statement or a gesture that then becomes a reminder of a time so long ago. She says nothing to indicate sadness, but it shows in her voice, in the way her face changes expression. And Amelia sees this.

Simplicity seems to remind her of things that have long ago died, Amelia notices.

"I haven't had sex in a long time," she blurts out.

"What?" Arizona asks, her eyes surprised as they fall on Amelia's.

"I dunno," the neurosurgeon shrugs, "I haven't had sex. I _don't_ have sex. So I don't have to worry about ice cream consumption. It's all good." She winks and repeats herself, _It's all good_, slumping back into her chair as she watches Arizona, who only watches her with wide, curious eyes that are suddenly very bright again.

Arizona laughs and slips the spoon back into her mouth, savoring the taste. Saying nothing, but only watching.

"Have you?" Amelia asks, interrupting the quiet, but only because the silence of the room and the intensity of the blonde's stare is unnerving and suddenly makes her want to know.

"What?" Arizona asks, her eyes still fixed on Amelia's. It's too intent, she thinks, too much, so she looks away reflexively, settling for staring at the computer's screen instead. Hazel eyes draw away as blue eyes follow them. "What?" she asks again, titling her head.

Amelia's eyes draw back to her. "Had sex," she says. "I mean, since Callie," she adds, wondering if it's okay to mention that.

But Arizona's expression doesn't change, rather, her eyes seem to grow more curious. More bright. Sly.

And somehow flirtatious.

"No."

* * *

><p>He is nice.<p>

His smile is wide, and the light wrinkles on his face rise when his lips stretch out and into a smile. His eyes are bright too, she thinks. Steely, though somehow appealing. They have a dignified glow.

Their lunches are light. He's hardly ever around the cafeteria. Recently, he's been texting her to join him as though she is his only excuse to go anywhere.

They don't settle for drinks after work as he's aware of her situation, though once they shared a small dinner together in a quiet restaurant across town.

She's been flirty with him. This is how she lets it out. It's filling, this interaction. It allows her to blow off the steam, to talk about her experiences and situation to someone who is not a part of it, but a part of something else. It eases the strong, unsettling feelings she gets when she's around Arizona. She lets these complicated feelings out through flirtation.

And it's easy to flirt with him. The bewildered look on his face is enough to make her continue.

Plus, he's nice.

Not too complicated. Though he's got that darkness.

But everyone has it, she thinks. Briefly, bight blue eyes come to mind.

He smiles, scratches his chin. He's recently shaved, she notices.

She likes talking with him. He gets it.

"I understand that. Back when I served…" and he trails off. She is interested. He is appealing. Nice.

But then she's distracted by a whisk of blonde hair that catches her eye in the midst of his intense story. She meets her eyes for a second. Arizona smiles and stops, lifts her hand to wave. It's the look Amelia gives her that makes her turn away so suddenly.

It's that look, Amelia can tell. Because she knows it, too. That look, it's like she is invading.

Interrupting something too intimate.

So Arizona walks away.

* * *

><p>She doesn't go looking for her. Instead, she goes to surgery. She is swamped with them, and hasn't seen Arizona since. She's beginning to talk to Meredith again, who, more than once has inquired of her relationship to Arizona. She laughs and dismisses it. And then Meredith asks about Owen.<p>

There is passing tension that arises when Callie enters the OR. Meredith and Callie speak to each other like the oldest of friends. Amelia says nothing, but she is surprised when Callie mentions a woman from last night.

A one-night stand.

Her hands don't fail her, though, and she can feel Callie's gaze on her. It's not triumphant, or curious, or intent; it's simply worried.

A worried, watchful gaze.

And then she asks about Owen, too. And again, Amelia laughs.

Later, she talks to him some more. She finds her hands trembling.

Callie asked him about Amelia, too.

"So," he asks, "Dinner tonight?"

"Not tonight."

* * *

><p>By the end of the night, she is tired and drowsy, and a little more than annoyed when she finds the door to her own office locked. She flashes her ID card and enters, and sees another whisk of blonde hair as Arizona jumps from her seat and turns around, trying to look busy.<p>

She's not very subtle, Amelia thinks.

Her shoulders are shaking, and her usual fluttery blonde hair seems to settle pathetically on her shoulders. Her back is stern; she is trying for a dignified pose. But it seems weak.

Hurt.

Sad.

"Callie slept with someone else," Arizona says, not turning to her. She doesn't move from the door, though she wants to see her face. She wants to see her eyes, she wants to brighten them. She wants to fix it.

"And I'm mad, I'm mad," she rambles. "I'm _so_ mad, I-" Arizona shakes, "And I shouldn't have a reason to be."

"You should," Amelia justifies. "You have a reason to be," she continues, though she hasn't talked to Arizona about her marriage at all.

The blonde only laughs weakly, her shoulders slumping lower.

"Aren't you going to fix your marriage?" Amelia asks.

"My marriage is over."

_Fix it_, she is tempted to say. But she knows she won't mean it.

Instead, she asks, "Do you want to have dinner?"

"No."

"Get a drink?"

Arizona laughs, but there is no effort behind it. She knows Amelia can't have drinks. "Amelia."

"Talk about it."

"Can you leave me alone?" she asks. "Please?"

"Right."

So she stands there and stares at her back, saying nothing, but only watching.

* * *

><p>Later that night, she knocks on the door of her brother's trailer. Owen opens it, clad in a towel, and she pulls his wet neck towards her and kisses him hard.<p>

And when the door slams shut behind them, she feels a hard thumping in her chest and lets the emptiness in her heart be filled, if only momentarily.

She closes her eyes. The growing stubble of his chin scratches her mouth.

She wants to be sly, she wants to be flirty, she wants it all.

She wants to fix it all, but she doesn't know how.

And when it's all over, before she falls asleep, she finds herself staring at the roof of her brother's trailer, wondering how she got here.

She hears Owen's breathing. It's heavy and pleased and uninterrupted.

It's all over now, and she feels empty again. She wants to check her phone, wants to go over to Alex's and barge into Arizona's room. Anything but stay still in this bed, alone with her thoughts. She wants to do something again. She wants to feel filled again.

So she shuts her eyes and dreams of those bright blue ones.

Curious. Bright. Flirtatious.

Sad.


	4. Chapter 4

Just a note: If you don't like it, please don't bother reading it.

& thanks to those that do read this story, I greatly appreciate it.

* * *

><p>She sits in Amelia Shepherd's office - <em>their <em>hideout, and ponders over her situation. The office is empty, and vaguely smells of Amelia, though she hasn't really figured out what kind of scent the neurosurgeon has.

Arizona has two immediate objectives: figure out a way to possibly save April's baby, and fix Herman's brain tumor.

The latter seems to be going well in terms of research, but the former isn't doing too well. Jackson was enraged, nervous, and frantic, while April simply broke down. She remembers it all too well.

_Fix it!_ _You need to fix it!_

She needs to fix too many things, she thinks.

But Herman could fix that far better than she ever could. Only, she's dying. Amelia has figured out a way to remove Herman's tumor. But it will be extensive. It will be incognito. No one knows. It's too complicated.

And she hasn't told Herman yet.

She hasn't told anyone.

It's just her secret. With Amelia. Like their hideout. Established solely for this reason.

Callie slept with someone else. She cared for a while, and she still does sometimes, but ultimately, it doesn't matter very much. She realizes this. Why should it? Why should she be sad and alone while Callie isn't? Callie is rediscovering herself.

She is, too.

Callie is not on her mind much.

There are too many things left to occupy her mind.

She needs to tell Herman, too.

Frustrated, she kicks a box carelessly placed on the floor next to Amelia's computer. Why does the office suddenly have so many more boxes? She ponders over this, and decides to kick the box harder this time, but with her prosthetic leg so she doesn't damage it. She doesn't want to do damage.

She's all about damage control.

She hasn't seen Amelia in a while. A few days. The last time she saw her, she kept her back towards her as she inquired about her feelings, and she only gave her cold words in return.

She kicks it again - staccato thumps. It becomes more of a tapping. A translation of her pondering and idleness. The room is silent and the computer's hard drive only continues to buzz.

She wants the perfect silence in exchange for this unsettling one. The silence of another in her company, another in her presence. Amelia.

She needs to talk to Amelia.

Where is Amelia?

Did she not want to be around her anymore? Was she too cold? Too closed?

Too much?

Maybe it's the way she stares. Most times, she finds herself staring. She looks away when Amelia does it first, but she finds herself staring even more now. But she only does it because she likes Amelia's smile. And her suggestive grins. And her winks. And that smug look she gets sometimes.

Maybe she shouldn't look at her so much - so intently, as though she's searching for something. Is she? Maybe she is. There is more behind those hazel eyes, she thinks, more behind that gleeful grin.

She just wants to know about her, that's all.

She likes being her friend.

She checks her phone and looks at her messages to Amelia.

The last one from the neurosurgeon says: _I guess I don't want to pry, but text me if you want to talk. Okay?_

She never did reply. She kept silent. She was frustrated then, but she's okay now.

Maybe the silence they share isn't a good thing, after all.

She looks at the box again, her foot has stilled against it. The fragility of it reminds her of the boxes she has stacked in the guest room at Callie's house. Her house. Their house. Whatever, she thinks.

She looks at her phone again and sends a message to Amelia.

_Hey. Are you around? I need some help moving stuff._

* * *

><p>But she receives no reply.<p>

She is done for the day. Herman is out and Graham is still busy with his own rounds. As stupid as he may seem, he can be reliable when necessary.

Callie is still in surgery. She can move boxes now.

Exiting the hospital, she decides to phone Amelia.

It rings twice before she picks up. There is stifled giggling accompanied with a strange drone in the background. She hears something fall and sheets being ruffled. A creaking of a bed she vaguely recalls.

There is more muffled murmuring before she hears, "Hello?"

"Hey, Amelia."

"Arizona!" she hears. It sounds excited, yet somehow forced. Exaggerated. Unprepared. "What's up?"

"Where are you?" she asks. She inquires before she can stop herself, before she can remember that it isn't really her business to know where Amelia has gone.

"What?" the neurosurgeon asks as though she's misheard her.

"Where are you? Meredith's?"

She waits for a reply, but the drone of the phone connection already seems hesitant to her ears. "Sorta," Amelia finally answers. "More like… Derek's."

She hears a murmur in the background. The voice is deep and heavy, and seems to disrupt the phone connection. She wants to hang up.

"Did you get my text?"

"I did," Amelia says. She waits before asking, "Move stuff where?"

"From Callie's to Alex's."

She hears a laugh that sounds delightfully dubious. Amelia's laugh. "Get your own place."

"Says you," Arizona quickly rejoins. "Half of that house is mine."

"Then don't call it Callie's," she says simply. There always seems to be reasoning in her tone, as playful as it may appear.

"Whatever," the blonde grumbles, suddenly frustrated with the conversation. "Are you going to help me or not?"

"Yep," Amelia says, and her voice is suddenly light and free, and almost harmonic to her ears. She likes that voice. Its slyness, its exuberance. "Meet you there? Text me the address."

Arizona hears a groan of protest as Amelia says this, and it seems to come from the background. It's the same deep, hard voice from before.

"Yeah, sure," she says, and she hangs up before Amelia can say anything else.

She stands there outside of the hospital, her neck suddenly cold from the strong wind of the usually pleasant city.

She's interrupted something.

* * *

><p>"Your house is cute," Amelia grins at her as she steps out of her car. She shuts the door and narrows her eyes at the brunette's smugness, keys jingling in her hand.<p>

"You got here fast."

"Yeah, I was getting ready to leave anyway."

She doesn't want to ask from where, so she walks past the younger Shepherd and opens the lock to the door. The knob seems flimsy as she goes to turn it, and she steps inside.

It feels foreign.

"This is weird," she suddenly determines. "Maybe I shouldn't have come here."

"What?" Amelia asks, perplexed. "Why?"

"I just," Arizona starts, "I just haven't been here in a while." She stands there and feels uncertain, unwilling to take a step forward. She hears a heavy sigh behind her, but does nothing.

She suddenly wants to turn around and leave, but she is silenced by a sudden pull of her arm. The door slams shut behind her and the arm around her own tightens and pulls her forward.

It feels warm and confident in its refusal to let go.

"Come on, do I need to walk you?" Amelia asks, her voice hard. "Pull you?" She asks again, her hand wrapping around Arizona's upper arm. Her fingers only graze the fabric of her coat, but Arizona can feel the warmth of her fingertips, the careful consideration behind them. She seems suddenly frustrated. "What will it take you to step inside?"

"What-"

"Where's your room, then?" Amelia decidedly queries. "I'll just pull you there."

"Amelia-" Arizona warns.

"Shut up," the brunette retorts. Arizona looks into her eyes - they are livid and bright, and seemingly tired of something.

"Okay," Arizona says. Amelia doesn't loosen her grip, though, and Arizona proceeds forward and into the guest room.

They say nothing as they step inside, and Arizona feels the coldness of the room. It seems untouched, unopened, and hardly entered. A junk room.

There are mostly clothes in piles scattered across the bed and boxes aligned on the floors. Sofia's and Callie's. There aren't many boxes, though, and Amelia seems surprised.

"Just these?" Amelia asks, her eyes falling on the boxes.

"Yeah."

She laughs, "You just needed help with _this?_"

Arizona laughs right back at her, her voice feels lighter now. She feels Amelia's grip on her arm grow tighter. "I needed help with a lot more than this."

* * *

><p>They are sitting on the floor of her room at Alex's house, boxes scattered around them as they share drinks and snacks. Arizona has a beer while Amelia settles for flavored sparkling water. They use the boxes as makeshift pillows and lean against the hard surface.<p>

They mostly giggle over hospital gossip and strange staff behaviors, but then Arizona decides to mention that Owen wasn't in today, either.

"Yeah, I was with him," Amelia informs her.

Arizona feels uneasy, "Oh, no wonder." She doesn't know what to say.

Hazel eyes watch her carefully before telling her, "I slept with Owen." Her voice comes out harder, and even she seems surprised by it.

"Oh," she says it almost too fast. Amelia's gaze doesn't fall. She seems to be searching for something in her eyes, so the blonde looks down at the snacks on the floor, carefully surveying the crackers laid out.

"I was with him yesterday, too."

"How was it?" Arizona asks, her eyes still perusing the state of the crackers.

"Okay," the neurosurgeon says, "I mean, he's nice."

She picks a cracker, and takes a bite as Amelia continues to watch her. She swallows hard. It feels rocky in her throat. She drinks her beer.

"Yeah," Arizona agrees.

"I don't think we're a thing, though," Amelia says, her own eyes drawn to the crackers now. She picks one up, carefully watches it, and looks back at Arizona. "Not exclusive, I mean."

"Oh?"

"Yep," she smiles now, and takes a bite of the cracker while she watches her.

But Arizona only stands up and turns around, flipping the cover open to the box she was just leaning against.

"I should get unpacking."

* * *

><p>When Amelia leaves, Arizona watches her retreating form until she gets into her car. When she drives away, she shuts the front door quietly and leans her head against it, feeling flushed and slightly annoyed.<p>

"You two have a fight cus she's banging Owen?" she hears.

"Shut up, Alex."

"I mean, if you want to bang her, just tell her you want to bang her."

"I don't want to _bang_ her."

"Yeah, okay," he says in disbelief, a beer in his hand as he leans against the wall, narrowing his eyes at her.

"What?"

"Have you seen the way you _stare _at each other? Like, from an outsider's view?"

"No," Arizona says, "And I don't want to. We're just working on a case together."

"Uh, so?"

"So we share a secret."

"Like, _I secretly want to bang you_?"

"Will you stop?"

"I'm just saying," he shrugs, "she _is_ hot."

Arizona clasps her hands behind her back and leans back against the front door, watching Alex grin smugly at her. Her heart feels light again, and seems to resound in her ears as she thinks back to that searching gaze.

"She is," Arizona agrees.


	5. Chapter 5

"D, do you need a ride?" he asks her quickly, struggling to get his shirt on before she is out of the door. It's his only white shirt, though, and he's barely dressed even before she makes it to the trailer's door, which opens with a sudden and horrendous creak, something she hasn't noticed before, but is now beginning to.

"No, my car is parked right here."

He finally pops his head through his shirt's collar and flies up, hurrying over to her as she makes her way down the creaky stairs.

"Are you sure?" he asks. "I can drive you. You can come by later then, and pick it up."

Amelia laughs, "I'm not waiting until you get off work!" She stops to turn around and look at him. She finds him funny in this moment; him, only in his white shirt and briefs, leaning against the doorway of the trailer, one arm bracing it open while the other grips the ledge. "Besides," she reasons, "I have surgery in 30 minutes."

He drops his eyes shyly to the floor, as if in consideration, and looks back up at her. "So you're not coming tonight."

"Probably not."

"You say that and then show up at my door, anyway," he lectures. "I have no way of knowing."

"Well, consider me impulsive," she grins. She edges away from him now, with slower steps, still watching him as he stands at the doorway. It seems as though he could leap out if he wanted to. He doesn't say anything this time, so she turns around to leave.

But he calls to her, "Amelia?"

She looks at him.

He waits before asking, "So you won't come?"

"I won't."

* * *

><p>The last thing she expects to walk into is Arizona changing in her office. <em>Their<em> office.

She is beginning to like the sound of _their_, if only for this, she thinks, as she watches Arizona's flustered expression. Amelia says nothing, though, and instead stares at her pale, lightly freckled bra-clad chest. She only finds Arizona staring back at her.

The blonde doesn't seem too flustered, though, and she only smirks at her when she slips her scrub shirt on.

"You wear nothing underneath, huh?" Amelia grins.

"I wear a bra," Arizona shoots back.

Now she seems more flustered. As if she's remembered something. Now that words have been spoken. She sees her pale cheeks grow slightly red and briefly wonders if her body feels hot.

"I need to tell Herman," she says.

Amelia continues to stand at the doorway, only shutting the door behind her.

"Today?"

Arizona stays where she is. "Soon."

They share a look before the other woman's eyes darken, and she stares at the floor beneath her, losing herself to her own thoughts.

"Don't look so sad."

"I'm not sad," Arizona tells her. She lifts her gaze and her eyes begin to search the room.

"What are you looking for?"

"My lab coat."

"You should, probably, you know," Amelia starts, and now she walks closer to her, "move."

"Huh?" Arizona asks, looking back at her. She slowly steps away as Amelia draws closer to her. The neurosurgeon wonders what kind of look she's giving her. She can't even tell. Her eyes draw to her bare, pale arms, and she can see the muscle indentations on her forearms as she crosses her them in front of her, as if shielding some part of herself.

"I mean, you should move around when looking for something," Amelia laughs, taken aback by her own voice. It's low and sultry and does a little more than just surprise her. "Common sense, you know?"

"Well," Arizona retorts quickly, drawing further away from her. She spots her coat behind the computer desk and goes to pick it up. "Don't say it so strangely."

"How is it strange?"

"The way you're acting is a little strange to me," she says. Her eyes refuse to meet Amelia's, even as she puts on her lab coat.

"How am I acting?"

The blonde sighs, "I don't know, Amelia."

"You're upset," Amelia determines.

"I'm just tired," Arizona explains. "And nervous. And frustrated."

"Herman?" she inquires.

"Herman."

"Is that all?"

Arizona meets her gaze now. She can't tell what she's thinking from her eyes alone. For the first time, it seems, she can't.

"That's all."

Amelia feels herself growing hotter, as though the room has suddenly obstructed something. She feels nervous. In thrall by this woman, almost. But she wants to be.

"I'm here to help you. I'll be here if you need me," she says. Her voice is soft and low.

Arizona smiles at her, and it seems as soft as her own voice. "I need to tell her myself."

"Are you sure?"

"This is the only thing I can do right," Arizona says. And it makes Amelia remember what they're here for. What this is for. But Arizona is more than that, she thinks. More than a career, more than a fellowship. More than sad blue eyes. She is more than what she thinks she is.

"I think you're doing a lot of things right."

Arizona looks at her, her eyes are wide and they seem vulnerable to Amelia.

"You should want more," she tells her. "Step up. You deserve more."

"Amelia…"

"Call me Amy, won't you?" she requests. "Amy."

"Amy?" Arizona asks, and she says it as though sampling the sound of it on the tip of her tongue. The word comes out uncertainly, but Amelia likes the sound of it, the harmony behind it. She says it again, "Amy," and now there is more assurance behind it, more confidence.

Amelia smiles. She wants to take her hand and pull her with her - somewhere, anywhere - just so she can hear it in different tones. She wants to hear Arizona say her nickname in anger. In frustration. In soft complaint. In happiness.

In almost every way possible.

She just wants to hear it again.

"I like the sound of it... coming from you," Amelia tells her.

Arizona smiles. She looks confident and bright. It's such a little thing, such a small thing, but she likes it too.

"Me too, Amy."

* * *

><p>She spends lunch with Arizona, who now calls her <em>Amy<em>, and it is pleasant and lovely, and she seems to forget everyone else in her life. She is almost tempted to have dinner with her, but Meredith intervenes before they make their way out, and requests that she come _home_ for dinner, emphasizing a word that has always unnerved Amelia.

So now she sits with Meredith - meal finished and wine glasses out. She settles again, for flavored sparkling water, raspberry being her favorite. She traces the rim with her finger as Meredith talks about her estranged relationship with her brother.

"I'm sorry my brother's an ass," she offers, when she is sure Meredith is finished. But the woman does not seem moved.

"I already knew that," Meredith claims. "But hey, I'm glad you're kind of listening."

"I _was_ listening."

"You were _not _listening to me."

Amelia grows annoyed, "I _am._"

"You do this to Addison too?"

"_Meredith_," Amelia warns. "Don't make this about anything else. You're just as much of my sister as Addison is, okay?"

Meredith seems to collect herself and cools down, picking up the dirty dishes from the table. Amelia stands to grab her coat.

"You're leaving?"

"I have plans."

"With who?"

"Owen," she tells her. Though she hasn't planned anything at all. Really, she is simply tempted to knock on Alex's door and drag Arizona with her to the bar. Or somewhere. But then she remembers that she's at the hospital, and is suddenly tempted to work on the case again. She's been faltering, she thinks. "Actually, I need to prepare for a big surgery."

Meredith seems to ignore the latter half and quickly inquires, "So you slept with Owen?" but not before correcting herself, "_Cristina's_ Owen?"

Amelia scoffs, but confirms, "Yes, I slept with Owen." She slips on her coat.

"And you slept with Arizona before that?" she finally asks.

Amelia waits for her to add more this time, but she doesn't, and it makes her scoff even harder.

"No, Meredith!" she exclaims, suddenly. "But what if I did?"

"Amelia-" Meredith warns.

"_Cristina's_ Owen? How come you didn't say _Callie's _Arizona? They're not together any more than Cristina and Owen are," she considers. "People don't belong to others."

"That's not what I meant."

"Your consideration for others is very self-centered," Amelia shoots, and she suddenly feels bad when Meredith flinches from the words.

"Look, I don't want to fight," Meredith says, her voice softer this time, "You know that's not what I meant."

"I'm sorry," Amelia says, "I should go."

"Do you like him?"

"I do."

Meredith seems satisfied, and only watches her as she moves towards the door. Amelia stops and considers her words, staring at the wooden door in front of her.

"I like her too."

"What?" Meredith asks, her eyes surprised.

Amy fiddles with the doorknob, briefly testing its durability. She finally turns it and opens the door.

"Arizona," she says, "I like her too."


	6. Chapter 6

She is never surprised anymore when she finds Amy in their hideout with her face buried in scans and a sparkle in her eye. Amelia is never unnerved, never annoyed, and she always seems to find a glimmer in everything that she does, everything she investigates. Amy is like that, she thinks.

She likes it.

She's been noticing her little gestures, too. Like when she opens the door to the office and Amelia doesn't notice. She opens it very quietly, only for this reason. She opens it quietly so she can catch Amelia during her simplest moments. Amelia, at work. Amelia, brushing her dark hair back from obstructing her view. Amelia, chin on palm, and a pencil loosely hanging between two fingers in the other hand. Amy, looking serious and inquisitive, with her face scrunched up in concentration.

Amy eventually notices her, though, and that's when she grins. And it makes Arizona a little crazy, the way she does it. That sly look, and the way her eyes glow.

It almost kills her, the way her body heats up when Amelia looks at her like that.

She makes it a habit to draw away from her.

But she's not surprised this time, when Amy looks up at her and grins in the same way she always does. Though perhaps she seems a little more distracted now.

"How'd it go?" she inquires, returning her gaze to the outline she's been writing for the past day.

"Good, baby's fine," Arizona informs her, taking a seat beside her. Amelia smiles in acknowledgement.

"Glad to hear," she murmurs, still distracted by the outline.

Arizona leans back in her chair and briefly watches the younger Shepherd next to her.

"What's on your mind, Doctor Robbins?" she inquires without looking up.

Arizona smiles, "Nothing, Doctor Shepherd."

Arizona smiles wider when Amelia says nothing, and the neurosurgeon begins to tap her pencil against the table. "You're staring," she notes.

"I am."

"I have surgery soon," Amelia says, looking up at her now, "Gonna tell me what's on your mind?"

"I'll wait," the blonde says, simply.

Amy shrugs and stands to leave, stacking her papers neatly against the desk. Arizona doesn't move to give her space though, and her leg brushes against her knee as she moves to leave. The blonde is settled where she is, and only looks up at Amelia, who seems surprised by her behavior.

"What are you doing?"

"You should know," Arizona grins. Amy only gives her a blank expression, so she tells her, "I'm teasing you! It's your speciality." She briefly thinks that her behavior _is _silly, and wonders what she's doing. Blocking her way so she can't leave. Is this flirting? Is that what she's trying to do?

"That's not my kind of teasing. I'm much better at it than you are," Amelia retorts, moving her hand to shove Arizona's leg away. She grips her knee firmly, and the blonde can feel the heat of her hand through the cloth. It makes her shiver. "What, is this a ticklish spot?" she asks with a grin on her face, gripping her knee tighter.

Arizona giggles, "Stop!"

"It is, isn't it?" she asks, laughing this time, and her hand slides up from her knee to grip her thigh.

"Amy!" Arizona protests, her voice changing from a giggle to something far breathier. She sucks in her breath and looks up at Amelia, who is leaning over her seat. Her hand seems to rest firmly on Arizona's thigh, and now she looks at her with dark eyes. She seems to be holding her own breath.

"What?" Arizona asks, when Amelia says nothing. Her stare is sultry and lustful, and Arizona can see it clearly in her eyes.

"What?" Amelia asks. She blinks and pulls her hand away. "Anyway," she says, clearing her throat, "I'll see you later."

"Okay."

When Amelia exits the room, she lets out a deep breath and brushes her hair back.

Her body feels hot.

* * *

><p>She waits patiently for Amelia to leave for the day, but she's disappointed when she sees her talking with Owen at the front doors. He's still in his scrubs, though, and seemingly out of breath. He looks shy with his hands on his hips, but she stands at a distance and waits for Amy to finish.<p>

They part as good friends would, it seems, and Amelia waves to Arizona when she sees her approaching.

"Sorry!" she says. "Wait long?"

"No," Arizona murmurs.

They exit the hospital together, and the cold wind makes Arizona wonder why she even waited for her. She probably is busy. She took her own car to work this morning. They've never arrived together.

But she tries, anyway.

"Are you free tomorrow?" she inquires.

"Well, I'm off work."

"Do you, uh, want to check out the Christmas market? It's by the seaport."

"What?" the neurosurgeon seems surprised, but she looks at Arizona with expectant eyes. "No scans? No studying?" Amelia grins.

"We could do that after…" the blonde murmurs, "I want to go see it. And buy gifts."

Amelia hums, it's a throaty sound that makes Arizona nervous. Aware. Almost self-conscious. It's teasing. "Forget it."

"No, no," Amelia says, "I'll go." She pulls out her phone, "Let me just cancel with Owen."

"What, really? You don't have to."

"It's fine."

"I don't want you to-"

"Arizona," she warns.

"Don't cancel because-"

"Arizona! Shut up! It's fine," she assures her, looking back at her phone. She quickly types a message and looks back at Arizona. "Besides, I want to."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

* * *

><p>As Arizona waits at the parking lot for Amelia's arrival, she contemplates her choice of outfit. She thinks that she may have dressed too simply, or perhaps too casually. She chose plain black jeans and a red sweater. Though plain, it turns out to be a smart choice now that she thinks about it, since she seems rather unfazed by the wind. She smiles when she sees Amelia's car approach and waves at her to park in the spot next to her.<p>

"What a pain," Amelia says when she exits her car, "Stupid traffic. We should have gone together."

"I could have picked you up." _Like a date_, she thinks, and almost wants to blurt it out. Instead, she slips her hands into her pockets and watches as Amelia shivers next to her. The neurosurgeon is wearing a light, flimsy coat and a blouse underneath. She's dressed casually, as well.

It's dark out, and surprisingly cold. The seaside wind only seems to accentuate the cold air, she can practically see her breath with each exhale. However, the lights aligned along the seaport emit a deep, homely glow. The luminescent light seems to cast its shine everywhere, giving the night an enchanting feeling. She can hear carolers from a distance and light holiday music in the background.

"What are you looking for?"

"Something for Sofia," Arizona tells her. "She's been obsessed with Rudolph lately." She laughs, "My nose gets red in the cold sometimes, so she likes to joke that I'm a reindeer. It's cute."

"Oh, right," Amelia considers, "You have a daughter."

"I do," she says, and hurries to a stuffed animal toy stall. Her eyes light up at the selection and she hears Amy laugh behind her. She looks over to her with the intention to glare, but Amelia only watches her with her arms crossed and a delightful grin on her face. Arizona smiles back at her.

"Which one?" Arizona asks. Amelia trails behind her and surveys the various reindeer animals. She finally picks one up and turns it over carefully. "This one," she decides. "The nose turns red when it gets light."

After the purchase, Amelia trails slowly next to her, staring intently at the lights aligned along the port.

"You have a daughter," Amelia says, suddenly. "I saw her once. When I go to the daycare to see Bailey."

Arizona looks over at her. She seems to be lost in thought, as if carefully deciding something. But then she says, "I guess we still don't know a lot about each other, huh?"

"What?" Arizona asks, surprised.

"You should bring her sometime," Amy says, "to the office. I like kids."

She isn't sure what kind of look she is giving Amelia, but the younger Shepherd simply turns her head away and shrugs. "Never mind."

"I will," Arizona smiles.

From then on, they talk about Sofia and Zola while sharing customary drinks and sweets from the various stalls. And as they walk through the end of the market closer to the sea, Arizona can't help but notice Amelia's strange body movements.

"What's with you?" she asks.

"I-I'm _freezing_!" Amelia exclaims.

"It's not that cold," she murmurs dismissively, widening her eyes when she glances at the flushed skin of the shivering woman next to her. "You're so red!"

"Cus I'm cold! It's so cold over here!"

"But it's-"

"I _li-_lived in .. in LA for a long," she trembles, stuttering over her words, "_long_ time, okay?"

Arizona only rolls her eyes, but another shiver prompts her to draw the other woman closer.

"Here," Arizona says, linking her arm around Amelia's. She only shivers in reply and ducks her head into the collar of her flimsy coat, burying her hands deeper into her pockets. Her sudden movement pulls Arizona's arm closer to her - almost in a tight lock. The blonde almost has the urge to put her hand into Amelia's pocket and find her cold, hidden hand. Amy moves in closer to her, and it is the first time that Arizona notices that Amelia is slightly shorter than her.

"Huh," she says. "You're short."

"Shut up!" Amelia exclaims, seemingly embarrassed by her height. "I'm like an inch shorter than you. And you're wearing boots."

Arizona laughs, "You need to get some winter clothes."

They walk now, to the end of the market just beside the sea, and stare at the distant lights in front of them. The wind is brisk and cold, and the Christmas lights behind them cast a glow over their backs.

"Aaaah," Amelia shivers. "It's really damn cold. This isn't helping."

"I've got a sweater on, so I'm warm," the blonde replies. "So is my coat. It's super warm."

The glare she receives from Amelia prompts her to unzip her coat and open it wide, as if in invitation.

"What?" Amelia asks, surprised at her sudden gesture.

"Get in."

"Seriously?"

"Okay," Arizona says, threatening to close her coat, "Freeze, then."

"No, wait!" Amelia says, hurrying over to her. She turns around and leans back against her. Arizona closes the coat over Amelia and clasps her arms around the shivering woman.

"Warmer?" Arizona asks. She can smell her hair and feel the warmth of her body against her own. She wonders why Amelia is so cold when her body feels so hot. Amelia only laughs and nods her head in affirmation.

"You know, I have a lot of fun with you," Amelia confesses.

"You do?" Arizona asks. Her body is completely warm now. She can feel the words in her chest - she can feel the warmth there, too.

"Yeah. I'm glad I came to Seattle."

"I'm glad you came, too."

She wants to tell her that she's saved her. Saved her career. Saved some part of her she's not even sure of, but she feels too close to her to say it. She'd feel strange saying it, she thinks. She might grip her too tightly. She might do something.

"We're kind of…" Amelia's words trail off and she laughs softly, leaning closer into Arizona. Her back feels warmer against her chest. She wonders if the shorter woman can feel her heart beating against her. It's hasty, and unsettling. "We're kind of like a couple right now, huh?" she says, and though Arizona is not looking at her face, she can see the grin on it, she can hear the lightness of her tone.

Arizona grows stiff. She wants to pull away. She wonders if Amy can sense the change.

Because _she_ realizes it now. It's too sudden, too fast, and it hits her very hard in this moment, as another gust of wind prompts Amelia to turn around and bury her face into blonde hair. She feels her breath on her neck, and it's hot, too hot, it spreads throughout her body - so very quickly. She feels it along her skin, almost in her spine, and it makes her so very hot.

She tries to remain cool. But even the brisk wind cannot cool the heat of her body.

Yet her tone is successful as she inquires, "Cold, huh?"

Amelia pulls back now and looks at her. Her eyes are dark again, sultry, decisive and... tempting. "Yeah."

"We should go then," Arizona says quickly, pulling out of her reach, though her hands remain on her shoulders. She needs to look away, but she can't. She briefly grips Amelia's shoulders before letting her go.

"Should we?" Amelia asks.

"Yes," the blonde answers, buttoning her coat and turning around. She crosses her arms in front of her, and trails off and away from Amelia. She can feel the shorter woman's watchful gaze on her back before she follows quickly behind.

And when Amelia catches up, she doesn't bother grabbing her arm this time.

She knows now. Feeling her breath against her neck and the softness of her skin has only confirmed it for her. She wants to feel her lips on her, and her warm breath on her neck. She wants to know how her skin feels, she wants to discover its softness.

She wants her.

Really bad.


	7. Chapter 7

Arizona was going to kiss her last night.

That much was obvious.

Amelia knew she was going to by the way she clutched her shoulders - by the way her eyes looked. It was known from her intense stare, and the way she looked at her lips before she decidedly chose not to lean in.

Amelia let her, too. She prompted her. She leaned into her and grazed her nose against Arizona's warm neck, allowing herself to smell the blonde's perfume which, at the time, seemed too tempting to her. She wonders if that was the reason that she pulled back to watch her. She remembers feeling her long yellow locks tickle her skin. Though she was cold, she felt warm at the time.

She gave her a chance. She really did, she thinks.

And she was going to.

Arizona _was _going to kiss her, and Amelia was going to let her.

But she didn't.

She spoke about this at her AA meeting this morning. Richard stared at her with a look she couldn't quite determine. He smiled and chuckled to himself, and it made Amelia want to run up to him and shake all of the answers he probably had about the enigmatic blonde woman.

She wants to ask. She should ask. That's why she's been waiting in the office all day.

But she noticed the surgical board. Arizona's packed.

Yet, the door swings open and she looks quickly behind her. The surprise doesn't seem to catch up, though, and she's distracted by the child in Arizona's arms and the creepy monkey backpack swung around her shoulder.

"Hey!" Arizona starts, almost frantically. The child giggles, pulls at her mother's hair, and turns her attention to Amelia, who sits in a chair, staring at the two.

"Hey?"

"Last night," Arizona starts, and immediately, Amelia feels her heart start to race. Is this how she's going to say it? She didn't expect this. Not with Arizona's arms occupied by her child and an ugly monkey backpack. "Last night, you said I should bring her to the office right?"

"Wha," Amelia replies, startled by her sudden question. "Y, yeah."

"You don't have surgery for a while," Arizona points out, kicking the door closed with her foot. "Sof, this is Amy," she tells the child. "Remember Amy? I talked about her."

Sofia seems to realize the implications behind the abrupt introduction and ducks her head into her mother's shoulder. "Sofia," Arizona says.

"What's going on?" Amelia interrupts.

"I need a favor."

"Which is?"

Arizona slips the monkey backpack off her shoulder and it falls to the floor with a thud. She grumbles to herself as she settles the child on her feet and bends down to look at her. "Sofia, say hi to Amy."

"Nuh uh."

"_Sofia._"

When the child turns around, Amelia notices the stuffed reindeer cradled in her arms. She chose that reindeer.

"Hi."

Amelia grins, "Hi, Sofia."

"I need you to watch her."

"_What!?"_ Amelia exclaims.

"_Please!_ Callie is swamped and I have surgery in ten minutes. No one is free. _Please_, you _did_ want to meet her, didn't you?"

"But-"

"It's only for a few hours! Callie will pick her up before your next surgery, I promise."

"Arizona-" Amelia starts, but the pager on the blonde's waist starts to beep.

"Please, Amelia!"

"Okay, okay!"

"Sofia," Arizona says, and the child turns her attention back to her mother. "You're going to stay with Amy for a few hours, okay? Mami will come and pick you up after, okay?"

"No!" Sofia exclaims.

"Amy is fun! Remember all the nice things Mommy said about her?"

"No!"

"She chose Rudy! You love Rudy, don't you? Amy chose it _just_ for you."

Sofia allows this to sink in as she turns to the neurosurgeon, eyeing her skeptically.

"Sofia, Mommy has to go now," Arizona tells her.

"No!"

"Come on, baby. Amy is fun, okay? You'll have a good time," Arizona promises, kissing her on the forehead.

Amelia stands up and walks over to the mother and daughter, crouching down to reassure Sofia.

"We'll have a great time! Let's, uh, talk about reindeers!" Amelia insists.

Arizona rolls her eyes. "Nice."

Amelia glares at her, "Shouldn't you go?"

"Thank you!" the blonde exclaims. "Okay, baby. I'll see you later, okay?" she kisses Sofia on the forehead and stands to leave. "Thanks so much, Amelia, I owe you big time."

"You _really _do."

The blonde only grins in reply as she rushes out, and Sofia cradles the reindeer closer to her face as Amelia stares back at her.

"So," she starts. "You named him Rudy?"

Sofia nods hesitantly.

"That's a good name."

She nods again.

"You like reindeers?"

"Uh huh," she murmurs.

"Me too," she says. "Do you want to watch Rudolph?"

Sofia nods hesitantly as Amelia stands and offers her hand to her. Sofia contemplates for a moment, but switches Rudy to one arm so she can take Amelia's hand with her free one. The neurosurgeon slowly leads her to one of the chairs and picks Sofia up so that she's settled comfortably on one.

"Okay," she starts. "I have to look for it."

"Ok."

"Why don't you tell me about Rudy in the meantime?"

"His nose lights up!" she exclaims, and pouts when Amelia doesn't look. "Look!" she demands, and the brunette looks as the nose glows into a neon red. "Like mommy!"

Amelia laughs, "Like mommy?"

"Mommy nose red too!"

"You're right!" she laughs again, "That's so cool!"

"Amy's nose get red too."

"What?" Amelia asks.

"Mommy said Amy get red too," she exclaims. "Red like mommy."

"Yeah?" she asks. "Yeah, that's true," she affirms and looks to the computer again. She thinks for a moment, and then looks back at Sofia, who watches her in wonderment. "What else does Mommy say about Amy?"

"Funny," Sofia explains. "Nice."

"Yeah?"

"Ya! Pretty! Mommy likes Amy?"

"She does?" she asks, and almost feels silly for feeling validation from a child.

But it's Arizona's daughter, she thinks.

"Ya!"

Amelia grins, "Amy likes Mommy too."

* * *

><p>She is mostly preoccupied when the door opens behind her. Rudolph is more interesting than she had initially anticipated, and she finds herself almost dissecting the children's film even though Sofia already fell asleep.<p>

She expects it to be Arizona, but finds herself surprised when she rolls her chair around and finds Callie standing at the door, staring at the monkey backpack carelessly tossed on the floor.

"Hey," she says.

"Hey."

"Uh," Callie starts, her eyes briefly scanning the room. They seem to grow cautious as they land back on Amelia.

She wants to scan the room too, to notice what Callie has, but she already knows. Much of Arizona's belongings are here - traces of her lie everywhere. Most of Arizona is here now.

Callie looks over at her child napping on Amelia's lap and her eyes soften. It's not a look of possessiveness, not when she witnesses her child during her tranquil moments.

"Arizona said she left her with you."

Amelia looks down at Sofia, who sleeps with a kind of tenderness that warms her heart. "Yeah."

"Sorry about that," Callie offers. "We got caught up in surgery and daycare is just-"

"No, I get it," Amelia interjects. "I don't mind," she smiles, running her fingers gently through the child's thick hair. "Not at all."

Callie smiles awkwardly and moves closer toward Amelia. "Did she give you any trouble?"

"Nope," Amelia grins, "We had lots of fun."

"Sorry," she says again. "Arizona just sort of decided this herself."

"Well," Amelia grins. "She made a good decision."

Just then, Sofia's eyes flutter open and lighten up when she sees Callie standing in front of her. She jumps out of Amelia's lap and into Callie's arms.

"Mami!"

"Hey, sweetie," she greets her, kissing her softly on the forehead. "Did you have a good time with Amelia?"

"Amy is funny!" Sofia exclaims. "I love her!"

"Yeah?" Callie grins. "That's good."

"Look," the child demands, presenting her reindeer toy with two hands. "Amy chose Rudy!"

Callie seems surprised and looks up towards Amelia. "You chose that?"

"Yeah."

"Arizona said she got it at the Christmas market."

"Yeah, uh," Amelia explains, "We went together."

"Oh," Callie frowns. "But Owen said you cancelled?"

Amelia laughs, "Are you his messenger?"

"No, that's not-"

"I did cancel. For the Christmas market."

"Oh," Callie says. She lifts Sofia in her arms and the child settles comfortably on her chest. She stands and swings the monkey bag on her shoulder and turns to leave. "Thanks for watching her."

"Anytime," Amelia grins. She wants to turn back to the computer now, to finish watching the movie, but she can feel the hesitation coming from Callie as she watches her from the door.

"What's up?" Amelia asks.

"You know, he's my friend so I want to just let you know," Callie starts, "that's where Owen planned to take you. The Christmas market."

"We're not dating, Callie."

"Yeah, but you're not dating Arizona either," she says, and shuts the door behind her.

* * *

><p>She doesn't notice when Arizona opens the door, but the shuffling behind her gives the blonde woman away. She doesn't turn to her, though, and instead settles for the intense stare on her back. She can feel the woman's eyes peering at her - waiting, and maybe wondering.<p>

Because she is wondering. She wonders if she'll talk about it.

And though she thinks of how appealing Arizona's lips looked last night, Amelia chooses to say nothing, and flips the page of the chart she has in front of her. She cannot read the words no matter how many times her eyes scan the print. Arizona briefly shuffles behind her and pulls the rolling seat placed next to her to sit just behind her.

She hears a sigh as the blonde takes her seat and rolls her chair closer to her. Amelia only slightly flinches when Arizona gently rests her head against her shoulder.

They say nothing for a while, as Amelia scribbles notes, the pen scratching the paper with a kind of ruggedness she never knew she possessed.

"Are you sad?"

"No."

"Then get off my shoulder," Amelia orders. "You're heavy."

Arizona giggles against her arm, and the neurosurgeon feels her warm breath through her lab coat. She can tell the blonde has closed her eyes when she does nothing to move.

Amelia flips another page, trying to stay still and support Arizona's weight against her unwilling shoulder.

"How was Sofia?" she finally asks.

"Good," she informs her. "She said you like me."

Arizona laughs, "I do."

"She's cute."

"She is," Arizona says, "it's all Callie."

"And you," Amelia adds. "She's got your habits."

The blonde giggles again, and Amelia can feel the vibrations of her laugh against her shoulder. She can feel her breath and her warmth, and suddenly, she wants it.

She wants to say it. She wants to point it out, to tell her that she knew she was going to kiss her, and that maybe she wanted her to, maybe she would let her. She _thinks_ that she wanted her to kiss her too, because she wants to know what it feels like. She still wonders. Most of all, she wants to know what she will do.

She wants, she wants.

"Last night," Amelia starts, and she hears Arizona inhale sharply as she leans closer into her shoulder, exhaling hotly into the cloth of her lab coat. "Last night, you were going to-"

"I'm going to tell Herman."

Her resolve fails. "What?" Amelia asks, surprised by the interruption.

"Tomorrow. I'm going to tell her about the surgery. About everything."

Immediately, Amelia finds herself laughing. She laughs without effort - it's a faulty laugh. Fabricated. Exasperated. Her resolve fails. "Hasn't she already found out?"

"I'm sure she has a clue if she's been keeping track of her medical file releases."

"Right."

"And I'll need you there afterwards… to explain the surgery," Arizona says. "And to reassure her."

"Arizona-"

"I need you, Amelia," she tells her. "I need you to do this."

"Okay," Amelia decides. "Okay, I will."


	8. Chapter 8

She thought it would have been different, namely because Herman seemed so collected before. But then Arizona showed her the scan, starting to speak in a soft voice, confessing what has been bothering her for the past several weeks.

It's relieving to confess, she thinks. She still believes it. Though now her mentor looks at her with resentful eyes, she still believes that what she is doing is right.

Above all, she is a doctor.

"Listen-"

"No," she refuses. "You went against my orders. _My orders_."

"Doctor Herman."

"This is _my_ problem," Herman interjects. "_My _problem."

She is unsettled. Herman has always unsettled her, but this time, the woman is truly infuriated.

The door opens, and Arizona briefly thinks that she shouldn't have probably told her in the lounge as she hears a familiar voice quickly murmur _Hey, I_ before Herman swipes her hand across the table, sending coffee mugs, papers, and surgical plans onto the floor with a loud crash. Arizona follows Herman's gaze to the door, where she watches Callie staring at the scene with wide eyes.

Despite her ex-wife walking in at quite possibly the worst moment, she quickly turns her attention back to Doctor Herman.

"Doctor Herman, if you would just listen to Doctor Shep-"

"No!" she yells. "You are supposed to do _everything_ I say!"

"You just-" Arizona tries to say, but she can see Herman's eyes narrow at her as she slowly collects herself, straightening her lab coat before turning her attention quickly back to Callie.

"Robbins, clean this up and come see me _immediately_," she says, turning her back on the pediatric surgeon. Callie moves aside as she swiftly passes by her without looking back.

Arizona sighs and bends down to pick up the surgical plan, closing the journal carefully. She tries to clean up the mess despite Callie's eyes on her.

"And you're _actually_ going to clean it up."

"Who else will?" Arizona retorts, without looking up.

Arizona feels Callie waiting for more, but when the blonde says nothing, she asks, "What the hell was that about?"

Arizona stands now, and deliberately avoids her eyes. She can feel Callie's gaze on her - that intense, inquisitive gaze that has never once failed to leave her nervous. Arizona is not a good liar.

"Nothing," she lies.

"Arizona-" Callie warns. But Arizona doesn't respond to her warning tone, so Callie continues, "She shouldn't be talking to you like that. Or doing _things_ like that!" She puts emphasis on the last few words as she points at the scattered mess on the floor.

"She's allowed to," Arizona reasons, justifying Herman's behavior in her mind.

"No, she's not!" Callie refutes in a loud voice. "That is _not_ how a fellow should be treated and you know it."

"Callie, it's my problem, not yours."

Callie scoffs in disbelief at her dismissive tone. "What the hell is going on with you, Arizona?"

"Callie-" Arizona warns.

"Look at me," she demands.

"Cal-"

"Look at me!"

She turns her gaze to look at Callie, finally, but like a whiplash of relief, she is distracted by the woman standing at the door.

"Amelia?"

Amelia stands with her arms crossed, leaning against the doorway, as if she had been there the entire time. As if she swooped in like a guardian. Callie turns to watch her too, but Amelia only stares at Arizona, her eyes steady and unwavering. And it does something to her, that stare. It makes her stronger, it makes her confident. It doesn't make her crumble under someone else's gaze.

This look that Amelia gives her is of a different kind. Separate from desire. Separate from what she has now determined to be lust. It's different. It's relieving. Protective. Challenging and confident.

"You ready?" Amelia asks.

Arizona smiles, "Yeah."

Amelia glances at Callie before nodding at Arizona, returning a smile that is just as soft, sweet, and comforting as her own. "I'm going to see her now. I'll be waiting for you."

Arizona nods again before she turns to leave, and Arizona immediately turns to the corner of the room and reaches for the broom. Callie still stands waiting while she quickly sweeps up the mess into the corner. Luckily, she thinks, Herman finished her coffee before she tossed the mug.

Callie laughs, displeased. "So even Amelia knows, yet you won't tell me?"

"Amy is helping me."

"_Amy?_"

Arizona says nothing to this, though, and places the broom back. She returns to the table and neatly stacks all the necessary papers into a pile before tucking them under her arm.

"You like her, don't you?" Callie asks. Her tone is not accusing, nor possessive. A simple inquiry, a simple discovery. Something that just wants to be known.

"It's not like-" Arizona starts, but Callie only laughs. "You do," she says, almost in disbelief. "I can tell."

"How would you know?"

"Because I know you more than anyone."

Yet that claim feels bitter, it feels too loaded. Too deep. The claim Callie makes is retrospective, almost archaic. Something that begins to lose its truthfulness. So Arizona retorts in the same way, "I feel like we never really knew each other at all."

It's combative, the way she says it. And she wants to take it back. To not dig deep into problems of the past, problems that have been let go. Problems that are now diminishing. She wants to move forward.

Yet, she throws the blow.

And Callie takes it. Her sigh is exasperated. She is searching for words.

"Look-" Arizona starts. She doesn't want to fight. She clucks her tongue, retracts her buff, and starts for the door.

"Derek's sister?" Callie asks in disbelief. "Derek's _little _sister?"

She doesn't want to reply. But something about Callie's incredulous tone makes her. And it's probably the way she says it. Because she doesn't know Amelia. She doesn't know.

"It's Amelia," Arizona says, pausing at the door. She hasn't looked at her until now, she hasn't really tried to look at her face. Because she knew if she looked at her, her eyes would falter. Her resolve would falter. But it won't this time. Not this time.

Something has changed, something about her has changed.

And it's something that doesn't need fixing.

She feels Callie waiting as she turns to look at her from the door. "It's Amelia," she tells her. "Amelia Shepherd."

* * *

><p>They both flinch when Herman bangs her fist on the table, her resolve weakens and translates into physical expression. Anger. She sighs deeply, and collects herself again. She decides.<p>

"Fine," she says.

And while Amelia only grins, the blonde is surprised at her acceptance. Surprised at her resignation. "F, fine?" Arizona asks, her eyes wide.

"You say," Herman starts, looking at Amelia. "You say you can save my life."

"I can," Amelia affirms, confidence saturated in her tone. Arizona looks at her and smiles. Amelia's confidence is beautiful, she thinks. This is what she likes about her.

"Then what have I got to lose?" Herman asks, though she is not seeking a reply. She checks her pager and looks at the two surgeons before she nods. "Just tell me what to do. Prepare, and we will have a meeting in two days' time."

Arizona and Amelia grin at each other when she leaves, and the neurosurgeon takes a seat at the computer to prepare herself. They go over the surgical plans once again.

"We'll have to find a way to get this around Owen," Amelia tells her. "I can probably take care of that," she adds, and the confidence in her statement unsettles Arizona. She could, couldn't she? Because Owen and Amelia share a bond. She wonders if he lights up the darkness in Amelia's heart the way she does with her.

"Well, yeah," Arizona agrees after a moment of silence. "And the board."

Amelia seems surprised. "You didn't tell Callie?"

"No, why would I?"

"Didn't she hear?"

"No."

"Oh," Amelia frowns. She turns her eyes away from Arizona and stares at the scan of Herman's tumor. "So what did you talk about?"

_Us. You._

"Nothing," she says.

"Seriously?"

"Yeah," Arizona says dismissively, "So you'll take care of Owen, then?" she presses on.

Amelia frowns again and turns her gaze away, staring at the surgical plan in front of her. She begins to take notes as Arizona searches for words to say. Words to tell her. Something.

"So," she starts. But she feels unsettled, so she stands uncertainly. "No more ice cream?"

"No."

"We could share a pint again," she laughs, her voice low and sultry, her nonsensical words bearing suggestion. She doesn't even know what she is saying. She is simply searching for words. Amelia doesn't grin or laugh, though, she just smirks, and it's kind of cold, the way she does it.

"What's the matter?" Arizona asks, surprised by Amelia's unresponsiveness.

"Could you cut that out?" Amelia asks, looking up at Arizona.

"What?" she laughs.

"The flirting," the brunette explains. "It's getting tiring."

"Flirting? I'm not-"

"I know you like me," Amelia tells her. Arizona feels her face grow hot, and she opens her mouth to say something. But she pauses instead. She inhales in a quick breath, and Amelia casts her eyes back down at her surgical plan, a scowl on her face. She seems tired. Annoyed.

And immediately, Arizona wants to deny it. She is quick to deny. But she feels something settle in her chest. Maybe it's a pang, maybe it's a revelation. It feels full. Her heart feels full. Maybe it's just fatigue. She is tired of trying to be something she isn't. She is tired of denying parts of herself and her wants.

_It's Amelia. Amelia Shepherd_, she told Callie.

She thinks it can't hurt to say it. She's been clear enough. It might be all over. She needs to be honest.

She should be honest.

"Yeah," she says. "Fine," she continues, and Amelia looks up at her with expectant eyes. "I like you, Amelia. A lot," she explains.

This time, it's Amelia that opens her mouth to say something. It's her, this time, that inhales sharply. But she looks back down. Reluctant, Arizona notices. She can't take it back. She can't compromise. She should just do what is best for herself. So she decides.

Well, she's said it. She decidedly continues, "So I need to not be so close to you."

"What?" the neurosurgeon asks, looking back up at her. And now her eyes are bright. And something else. Something Arizona hasn't seen before. They seem vulnerable.

"I need to not be so close to you," Arizona explains. "To not do this," she says, not quite sure of what she means. She gestures at the wide space between them with her hand, "because I can't help it."

Amelia says nothing, and Arizona simply waits. She thinks she should turn to leave, that it would be best if she did, but Amelia says, "W, we can be close, still."

So this is what it feels like. For someone to say it like that. Someone other than her. Someone new and refreshing, with more confidence and less doubt. _Still, but_.

"No, we can't. I can't hug you or lean on your shoulder or joke around or _anything_ like that without feeling like I'm going to explode."

"Why?"

She might as well be honest. She should just be honest. "Because I want to kiss you," she confesses. "And," and she almost says _I want to have sex with you, _but she doesn't.

"And… what?"

"Nothing," she says, "never mind."

"And what?" Amelia presses on.

"And I think you wouldn't stop me," Arizona says, honestly. But Amelia doesn't say anything, she just watches her with wide eyes, "Right? So I need to not be near you for a while."

Her chest feels too full now, and she needs fresh air. She needs to be away from her, to bury herself in something that's not her. She turns to leave, and Amelia calls out to her. But she doesn't get up. She doesn't reach out, she doesn't pull her arm so that she's closer, so that she won't leave.

So she leaves.

She shuts the door and feels her heart sink.

It's better this way.


	9. Chapter 9

This is how it happens.

First, she feels foolish. She is someone who hardly hesitates, and she doesn't know why she does it, or why she did it in that moment. But she did.

She could admit she was jealous. And she was, just a bit. Only because Arizona wasn't being totally open about Callie. And, anyway, what right did she have to know?

So she was jealous, just for a moment. That's why she blurted out that she knew Arizona liked her.

But then Arizona admitted it herself.

She wonders why Arizona didn't do anything. Why she just walked away. She wonders and wonders, but decides not to look for the answer.

So it happens.

She is talking to him. She talks to him and finds herself almost pouring her heart out, but she isn't really listening to the words that come out of her mouth. She instead listens to the singing in her heart.

It's funny. And more than slightly unsettling. She wants to make it stop, she wants to feel more connected to the conversation she is having, but she is distracted.

She finishes what she is saying and smiles hard. The force of it hurts her cheeks. She watches him as he absorbs, watches as his face gets serious. She watches that seemingly contrived look of surprise take its appearance on his features. But he is always genuine. He has proven it. He continues to prove it. He is proving it right now.

He has steely blue eyes. Sometimes she finds herself mistaking his hair for red under the dim lighting of his trailer, but she knows that he's blond under most light. He is blond right now.

Lately, she sees blonde hair and blue eyes in all of her dreams. She spends most of her time around it. But it's not Owen's flat hair and steely eyes that she sees. It's bouncy - mostly whisky - kind of fluttery hair, and sometimes icy eyes that she really finds herself looking at.

She wonders why she pays so much attention to distinguishing the way Arizona's hair looks in her dreams. Her hair hasn't changed much from med school, she thinks. Not that she saw her a lot during those days.

But she sees her now. All the time.

_Their _hideout.

He smiles, and it's kind of sad - the way he does it. The way his eyes dim, the way his head lowers only slightly as he considers his words. She is not like him; she doesn't really consider what she says before she says it. She remembers what she just told him. And in a low voice, he says he feels the same, says he's had those sort of feelings before.

He has different feelings now, he continues. Now that he's met her. It's justifiable reasoning. He likes this - what they have. He likes it a lot.

_I like you, Amelia. A lot, _she told her.

She likes it, too.

She likes the sharing and the sex and the temporary filling of the emptiness in her heart, but it seems to make her want more, more, more.

More of something.

She finds something always lacking.

_I need to not be so close to you_, she told her.

"Do you want to come to the trailer tonight?" he inquires in soft, slightly seductive voice.

And it's the tone of his voice that makes her realize that the things she craves the most in life always appear in her dreams.

She thinks about this before answering.

"I can't," she determines. "Not tonight."

_Because I want to kiss you, _she told her.

"Oh…" he deflates.

She is unflinching, determined. "Owen," she says, and she wants to know, though it won't make a difference, "what are we?"

_I need to not be near you for a while_, she told her.

He considers this, and she sees that flash of uncertainty in his eyes. He is silent for a while. Amelia taps her foot just as quietly. "…I don't know."

But she knows.

She does.

So she leaves.

* * *

><p>Amelia doesn't let Arizona say anything when she opens the door. The blonde looks surprised, surprised by Amelia's bewilderment and sudden appearance and maybe also by the fact that she's out of breath. She collects herself for a moment as she steps inside and swings the door shut behind her. Arizona starts to reach out to her, maybe to fix her hair, maybe to grasp her shoulder and ask her why she's here, but Amelia just slaps her hand away and pulls at the collar of her sweater and pushes her hard against the wall.<p>

"Am-" is what Arizona gets to say before she kisses her, finally allowing herself to know how her lips feel. And they feel good. They're softer than she imagined they would be. Their softness is alluring, she thinks, as she presses own lips harder against Arizona's. She kisses her once, and then again, and she feels Arizona reach her hands out to grab her hips. She feels her pulling her in closer to her, and she feels the kisses grow stronger. More passionate. She wants to pull back, to look at the blonde, but when she does, Arizona just draws her back in, chasing her lips, kissing her again. She pulls her closer and Amy is suddenly out of breath.

She pulls back and Arizona lets out a dreamy sigh which only makes Amelia grin. Arizona's face is red, and her body feels hot against Amelia's. She withdraws her hands now, and brushes back her hair, letting out another shaky breath.

"I, I want to bang you," she says.

"_What?_" Amelia asks.

"I don't know, someone told me I should say that to you."

Amelia scowls. "That's not very classy."

"Alex isn't a classy guy."

"You told him that you wanted to bang me?" Amy grins.

"No," Arizona smiles. "He just figured it out."

Amelia smiles and leans back into her, kissing her again. Her lips are soft. Too soft, she thinks, and she can't pull away. But she does.

"I did, too. Before you told me."

Arizona's breath is still ragged from the last kiss. She seems to be pinned against the wall. "You did?"

Her surprise makes Amelia laugh. "Have you seen the way you look at me?"

Arizona only laughs at her inquiry, her voice soft and low. "That's true," she says. She looks to the floor for a moment, and then lifts her head to look back at Amelia. Her seem eyes softer.

"I was just waiting for you to admit it," Amelia explains. "But that was a dumb choice."

"What?" Arizona asks. "Why?"

"Because you think I'll have second thoughts about it," she explains. "And I'm not like that. When I know I want something, I'm sure of it."

"But-"

"You like me and that's enough."

Arizona seems to absorb this, but she asks, "Why didn't you say anything before?"

"What should I have said?" she asks, fingering the collar of Arizona's sweater. She pulls the collar down with her index finger, observing that defined clavicle that always seems to catch her eye. The moment of captivation, she thinks. "You were adamant," she continues. "You caught me off guard. You were decided. You didn't let me think."

Arizona frowns, and reaches her hands out to Amy's wrists, clasping her hands around them so she meets her eyes. "I thought you knew."

"You walked away too fast," she counters.

"Well, there's Owen-"

"Where does Owen fit in?" Amy interjects.

"You have Owen."

"I don't _have_ Owen. We're not anything," Amelia claims. "Well, he's just… different. He's a friend," she tries to explain. "And he doesn't make me feel the way that you do."

Arizona looks into her eyes, as if searching for something, and Amelia only watches them in turn. She draws her hand to stroke Arizona's cheek, twirling a loose strand of blonde hair around her finger.

"But I do know," Amy affirms, but she pauses in her statement and kisses her lightly on the lips again. She pulls back to look at her, "I know how bad I want to."

"To what?"

Amelia grins at her inquiry, at the blonde's pressing for answers. "Kiss you. Fuck you. That kind of stuff," she says, smugly.

Arizona seems to blush, but giggles at her in reply and smiles, and now her eyes are softer. Brighter. Amy likes her eyes, the way they look at her. All the time. She could get used to this, she thinks - used to staring closely into these blue eyes. She's never been so close before, she realizes.

"So why didn't you just tell me then?" Arizona asks.

"I guess most of me was afraid," she continues, fingering the fabric of her sweater. Arizona releases her wrists and brings her own hands to Amelia's waist. "But then I thought back and realized how stupid that was."

Arizona laughs. "Really?"

"Yeah," Amelia admits. "Do you know? I always act on my wants. I've learned not to now, so maybe that held me back," she explains. She can feel Arizona's fingers running against her clothed hip. They seem eager now, and she can see her eyes growing darker. "But for something like this," Amelia continues, "someone like you," and, captivated by her pink lips, she stops talking just to kiss her again, "it's not so bad to act on them."

She pulls the collar of Arizona's sweater down, so she can kiss her clavicle, and feel it on her tongue. She traces it slowly before she pulls back. The throaty exhale Arizona gives her is enough to heat her entire body. She looks at her and grins. "Not bad at all."

Arizona smiles, and draws Amelia closer to her, leaning in for a kiss. She slips her tongue inside, much to Amelia's surprise, and when she traces her tongue against her own, Amelia feels engulfed. Her body is suddenly on fire. Arizona strengthens her hold on Amelia's hips while her tongue delves deeper into her mouth. But the shorter woman shoves her back against the wall and begins pulling her sweater up her body.

"So," she starts, her breath ragged and excited. Arizona only stares back at her with lustful eyes and bruised lips."Is Alex not home or am I just going to fuck you against this wall?"

Arizona laughs again, though her eyes remain dark. Excited. "He isn't," she tells her, "but we should move to my bedroom."

They struggle to the bedroom, only because their lips are too occupied with exploring each other. Amelia barely has time to process her surroundings when she feels her back slam against the shut door of Arizona's room. The blonde seems domineering - incredibly sensual, she realizes. And her lips are addicted to Amelia's neck.

"Bed," Amy manages to say in between her panting, but Arizona doesn't move, and instead goes to unbutton her shirt. Preoccupied with this, Amelia shoves her back until she loses her balance and falls onto the bed.

She hovers over the blonde and watches her face. Arizona's eyes are darker now, though somehow they seem to retain their natural brightness, and her sporadic breaths leave Amelia breathless.

"Um," Arizona starts, attempting to sit up. But her position makes it difficult, and her chest brushes against Amelia's. "You know, maybe we should-"

"Why do you always talk?" Amelia asks, grabbing her shoulders and shoving her back down. She kisses her hard before she allows herself to continue. She likes the feel of her lips, the softness of them. "Just let me fix it for once."

"You make me nervous," Arizona blurts out.

"What?" Amelia asks. Is she having regrets? "Why?"

"I-I don't know, you look-" the pediatric surgeon tries to explain, her eyes falling to Amelia's chest before she meets her gaze, "you always look like you're amused."

Amelia laughs. "I'm not making fun of you," she clarifies, reaching out to thread soft blonde hair through her fingers, "you're just cute. It's fun."

"Well," Arizona smiles, seeming relieved, "Maybe I worry too much."

"Yeah," Amelia agrees, and pulls off the blonde's sweater in a quick gesture. She unbuttons her own and throws it behind her. "Now get on the bed properly," she commands.

Arizona does just that, and moves up onto the bed, slipping off her pants quickly. Her eyes warily fall to her prosthetic and she looks at Amelia, suddenly uncertain.

"What?"

Arizona laughs, "This won't be very sexy."

"You are _too _sexy."

She begins to take off her prosthetic while Amelia strips off the rest of her clothing, leaving her underwear intact. She crawls up on the bed and shoves Arizona on her back when she is finished.

"Well, you're eager," Arizona grins.

"Do you know how bad I want to fuck you right now?" Amelia asks, impatiently.

"Who's classy now?" the blonde retorts as Amy leans in to kiss her lips. She begins to lose her breath again when Arizona slips her tongue into her mouth and reaches over to unfasten her bra. The straps fall down on her shoulders, and Arizona pulls them off without leaving her lips.

"Who's _eager_ now?" Amelia grins, but her witty comments turn into moans once Arizona kisses her breasts. She finds herself struggling to lean over Arizona, but only because the blonde seems to be in control, even with her position on the bottom. Amelia feels as she traces her nipple with her hot tongue and trembles above her.

"Maybe _I _should be on top," Arizona says huskily, her hand on Amelia's hips. She feels the taller woman run her fingers along the lacy material of her underwear. She is teasing, suddenly.

"I know how to fuck a woman, Arizona," Amy claims, reaching out to unhook her bra. She does so quickly and marvels at Arizona's breasts, placing her hands on them, relishing in its softness. Everything about this woman is soft, she thinks.

"Have you _had_ sex with a woman before?"

"Well," Amy considers, "In med school. But I've fucked _myself_ before."

Arizona only laughs at her confident admission, "Doesn't count. Totally not the same."

"It is!"

"No," Arizona corrects her, pulling her hands away from her breasts. She flips her over on the bed, much to Amelia's surprise. Her grin is sexy and devilish, and Amelia resigns to her dominance when she says, "Let me show you."

She is surprised when the first thing Arizona does is go down on her. She doesn't know when she blonde does it, though she seems to, when she realizes the blonde's kisses are slowly drifting downward. Her hot breath and incessant kisses on her body seems to consume her, and Amelia feels overwhelmed. She feels Arizona swiftly pull her panties off of her legs, and gasps out when her mouth meets her heat.

She tries to control herself when Arizona's tongue begins to explore her, carefully licking every spot, but she realizes how addicted she is when she starts to pull on her hair. The blonde only grips her hips tighter, keeping her in place, and Amelia suddenly finds herself crying out loudly when Arizona slips her tongue inside of her.

Her tongue is warm, too, she thinks. Especially inside of her.

She is not sure when she comes, because she does it twice. And again, when Arizona slips her fingers inside of her. She trails up her body as Amelia feels herself clenching against Arizona's fingers. "You're tight," Arizona husks, and it makes her moan out loudly. She wants to do the same, so she reaches her hand out and slips them inside Arizona's underwear.

"Take it off," she manages to gasp out.

Arizona laughs, her voice low and sultry. "Too late," she says, exhaling loudly when Amelia feels her own wetness.

"You're really wet," Amelia laughs.

"So are you."

She comes before Arizona does, clenching tightly around her fingers, but her own fingers don't let up inside of the blonde, and she changes position so that Arizona unravels beneath her. She kisses her hard, discovering the softness of her lips as her fingers plunge deeper inside of the blonde.

And when Arizona comes, she realizes how infatuated she is. The blonde throws her head back against the pillow, her eyes shut tightly. The breath she releases is quick, and erotic, and sensual to Amelia's ears and makes Amelia realize that she wants it again.

She wants it. She wants her.

They remain silent in the aftermath, their bodies suddenly fatigued and exhausted. Both leaning on their backs, they stare up at the ceiling. Amelia turns to look at Arizona, whose eyes remain closed. She watches her breasts rise and fall as her breathing returns to normal.

"Hey," Amelia calls out to her, prompting Arizona to turn on her side to watch Amelia. Her eyes are soft again, and bright, and beautiful, and they seem to make Amelia's heart race again.

"Should we cuddle?" Amelia inquires, watching the blonde's eyebrows raise in surprise. She wants to reach out and trace them with her finger.

"What?"

"I don't know, you seem like you want to cuddle."

Arizona laughs. "Where did you even get that idea?"

Amelia pouts at her, mostly with the intention to trigger a reaction from the blonde. "So you don't?"

Arizona laughs softly and reaches out to graze her cheek. She tucks a lock of hair behind Amelia's ear and smiles. It makes Amelia's heart beat fast. "You're just turning it around. _You_ want to cuddle."

"Maybe."

So they do. Arizona leans closer into her and buries her face against Amelia's neck, sighing dreamily.

"Oh, Arizona?" Amelia calls out to her.

The blonde seems drowsy already, though, and ducks her head into Amy's shoulder, blonde hair sprawled out against her. The scent is alluring, she thinks, and she wants to let her know.

"Hm?"

"I like you too," she says. "A lot."


End file.
